He swallowed and looked down at the floor. “Okay. I can do that.” He stood and walked to the door. “I’ll let you have some space, but I’m not going anywhere. When you figure out what’s going on in your head, I’ll still be waiting in your heart.”
Britta burst into tears when the door clicked shut. Everything Milo said sounded like a love song. Everything she said sounded cold, sterile, and harsh. But what else could she do? She only knew one way to survive. Maybe it wasn’t the right way, but she wasn’t willing to risk everything for a romance novel with an ever-changing ending.
THERE WAS A GAPING HOLE in Britta’s chest where her heart should have been. That was the only way to describe the feelings she’d had since turning Milo away on Tuesday. True to his word, he’d given her space, and Britta was angry with herself for every errant thought that went after Milo. She couldn’t concentrate, didn’t want to eat … the only thing she could do was read.
She’d finished The Book Thief and turned it in to Marian that Wednesday morning. “This is an incredible book,” she said.
“Of course, or it wouldn’t be on my list.” Marian took the book and checked off Britta’s name, her pen made a scraping sound against the clipboard.
“Have you read all of the books on your list?” Britta wasn’t even sure how many books were on the list, but several of them were quite long and difficult to read.
“Yes, every single one. I had some suggestions to add but I hadn’t read them, so I’ll do those for next year.” Marian smiled. “You can be certain that every book has been vetted by me.”
Britta smiled back. “That’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“I guess your boyfriend couldn’t find Little Women. That one will be late.” Marian huffed. “He said something about his shipment being delayed.”
“Oh, you talked to him?”
“Yes, he stopped by early this morning when you were busy downstairs fiddling around. I thought he’d want to talk to you, but he said he didn’t want to be late to his appointment.” Marian studied Britta over the top of her clipboard.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll catch him later. Thanks, Marian.” Britta hurried to her office before she had to answer any more questions about her “boyfriend” Milo.
Her mother called at lunchtime, and Britta’s throat tightened when she answered.
“Hallo, Britta, Wie geht es dir?”
If only she could tell her mother exactly how she was doing. Britta hesitated, running her fingers along the straight edge of her desk. And then, for the first time in ages, Britta willingly spoke in German with her mother. Britta told her about Milo and her fear of losing everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish.
“Now, Britta I want you to listen to me.” Her mother abruptly changed to English and Britta straightened, listening closely. “I know you think I am old-fashioned, that I don’t appreciate my hard-working daughter and her career. This is not true. Ich liebe dich, and I love you so much that I say it again: Ich liebe dich. I’m proud of you, but you can’t be happy alone. Marriage to a good man is not the ending of your book; it is the beginning.”
“But Mama— ”
“What I say is true. Even if you don’t believe me, you must give Milo a chance. You must give your heart a chance to search him out— to know if he is your favorite book waiting to be read.”
“Okay, I’ll try.” Britta sighed, knowing that her mother would make sure she followed through on her word.
“That’s my girl— my good German girl. Don’t be afraid of who you are, Britta Klein.”
Britta swallowed. Her mind was suddenly awash in memories, good memories of growing up in the Klein family. There were so many wonderful parts of her childhood steeped in tradition. Even though Britta had tried to hide it, her mother must have known something of the inner struggle Britta had faced for so long. “I’m glad you called, Mama. Thank you … for everything.”
After Britta said goodbye, she thought about what her mother said with every book she handled that day in the library. Every time Britta thought of Milo, her heart twisted with fear and the hurt that she’d inflicted on him. She made herself concentrate on the countdown to the Harvest Hurrah to make it through the rest of the day.
She woke early Thursday morning and headed to the site of the celebrations. The Harvest Hurrah was held inside the Big Barn on the edge of the Echo Ridge city limits. The old structure was being slowly brought back to life with the help of the community. Dozens of booths were lined up snugly inside the barn, with some vendors spilling out onto the wide-open field next to the barn. The air held the crispness of autumn that Britta loved— a mixture of dried leaves, apples, and dirt settling in for the winter slumber. She breathed in deeply and looked around at the excited faces of children running in and out of the booths for Kids’ Day. There were all kinds of activities, and the library booth was in the center of everything. Large crates were set up to hold book donations and clear glass jars stood on tables, hopeful for the clank of coins and swoosh of dollar bills.
“Well, hello, Britta,” Elise Gibson said. “Everything looks so nice. How are you holding up?” She slid a modest pile of books into the donation crate.
“Thank you.” Britta noted the donation from the perky brunette who always looked so put together. “I’ll be glad when all of this is over, but I’m trying to enjoy the parts of it that I can.”
“I saw Milo the other day. He said you two were going out on a date. How did it go?”
“Oh, you know. It was a date.” Britta felt her cheeks flush and she pressed her lips together to keep her face neutral.
“That looks like more than a date. I hope you didn’t break his heart, Britta,” Elise said. “Milo is one of the best. I went after him when he moved here, but we ended up good friends.” Her tone was wistful, and Britta wondered if maybe Elise would change the friend status if she could. A little fire of jealousy burned in the pit of her stomach.
“I know it took a lot of nerve for Milo to ask out a librarian.” Elise picked up a book from the donation pile and turned it over slowly in her hands.
“Why is that?”
Elise raised her eyebrows. “You eat, sleep, and breathe books. I can’t think of anything more daunting for Milo. He must have it pretty bad for you.” Britta was about to ask Elise what she meant, but a group of kids swarmed the book display. “I’ll let you take care of them. I’m supposed to meet my grandma over by the dunk tank. I hear they’re going to dunk the Mayor.” Elise waved and headed in the opposite direction.
Britta glanced at the smiling children around her, thinking of what Elise had said. She wasn’t that daunting, was she? She followed strict rules, but she was friendly with all of the library patrons. For the rest of the afternoon, Britta made an effort to smile more and relax with the people coming through the booth.
When she took her twenty-minute break, Britta strolled through the booths, hoping to see Milo, with no luck. She stopped by a table with mismatched antiques and saw Armand and Lindy, with several of his fans milling about.
“Bonjour, cousin Britta,” Armand said.
“Hello to you. I hope you’re feeling well,” Britta said.
“You are very glad today, no?” Armand said, waving his hand near her face.
Britta hesitated. Even though her heart hurt over Milo, she did feel a little better after her concentrated effort to enjoy the day. “Yes.”
“So the people are all pulling together for the library? It iz very good.”
Britta nodded. “Have I ever told you how much I love your accent?”
Armand grinned and put his hand to the side of his mouth. “It is the lady-killer, my friend says, but I cannot talk any other way.” He shrugged and winked at Lindy.
“Don’t encourage him, Britta,” Lindy said with laughter in her voice.
“Well you two have done such a great job; I want to encourage you both.”
“You’re the one who should be congratulated, Britta,” Lindy said. “This
is a huge undertaking and I think everyone is having a fabulous time.”
Britta took in her surroundings and nodded her agreement. “Thanks for being here, Armand. I hope you enjoy all of the delicious food. I’m so excited for your reading.”
Armand grimaced. “Yes, we’ll see. Bye now.”
That wasn’t the reaction Britta had expected, but Armand and Lindy were already walking away, being accosted by another fan. Her shoulders tightened. If anything went wrong with Armand’s reading tomorrow, she’d never hear the end of it.
After a full day of herding children through the library booth, Britta was exhausted. Lucky me, I get to do this all over again tomorrow! Britta caught herself frowning as she entered her home, and remembered her earlier resolve to be less daunting. She’d actually had a lot of fun proving to herself that she was approachable, nice even. The hair at the base of her bun was starting to come loose, so she released it from the tie. She massaged her scalp with her fingers and sighed. She missed Milo. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get him out of her head. She picked up a book from the top of her bookshelf, and a bookmark slipped to the ground.
She crouched in front of her bookcase to pick it up, and her eyes fell on a well-loved copy of Little Women. She sucked in a breath. It was the book Milo was supposed to bring to the library. The book he hadn’t been able to find anywhere. Britta pulled the book off the shelf and flipped through the pages. She loved the story of Jo, the determined writer who didn’t want to give up on her dreams to settle down and be stifled by a family. In the end, Jo had become a successful writer and found a surprise in the kindhearted German professor. It had been a surprise the first time Britta read the book because she had pined after the lost love of Teddy, but as she scanned the pages now Britta realized that Jo did need her independence, as much as she needed love from the right person.
She swallowed, her heart beating as she read the familiar words of the beloved story. Britta had always felt a kinship with Jo— the woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t about to let anyone stand in her way. But in the end, Jo had found love. Britta closed the book and put it back on the shelf. She had her independence.
Britta took the book back off the shelf, caressing the cover as she thought about the way she’d treated Milo— pushed him away because he had an accent. But mostly she pushed him away because she was afraid of herself, of her own secret longings to embrace her family’s traditions and pass them on without the worry of ridicule or misunderstanding.
For most of her life, Britta had pushed people away because she didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin— or confident enough to claim who she really was. But the last few weeks had changed the way she looked at things. Milo had changed her. Britta took a shuddering breath. Maybe she was more like Jo than she realized. She hugged the book to her chest and stood. It was time to do something daring. Britta slipped the book into her purse and smiled.
ELISE CALLED MILO FRIDAY, just before noon. “I didn’t see you at the Harvest Hurrah yesterday. I thought you’d be there.”
“I had some other appointments that ran late.”
“Well you’re coming for the Dutch oven cook-off today, right?”
Milo sighed. “If I can get everything finished up.”
“Milo, are you avoiding Britta? ’Cause she’s here and I can tell she’s looking for you,” Elise said. “The library booth has been extremely busy. Armand Beaumont was just over there causing some kind of commotion. That man is beautiful.”
Milo let Elise gush for a moment until he could get a word in edgewise. “Why do you think Britta is looking for me?”
“I talked to her yesterday. Her face turned red when I mentioned your date. I think she likes you.”
Elise’s singsong voice made a flicker of hope light up in Milo’s chest. Then he remembered the way Britta had run from him and then pushed him away again at the library. His shoulders slumped. “I don’t think I’ll make it over.”
“Milo, what happened? Did you two get in some kind of fight?”
“I tried to tell her about my dyslexia and she sort of freaked out.”
“Wait, are you sure she understood what you were trying to tell her? Because I know you, and you’re a man, and men just don’t communicate well— especially you. When I talked to Britta yesterday, she seemed confused when I told her how daunting it was for you to ask out a librarian— the utmost lover of books.”
“Hey, I do okay talking. No one could keep up with your word count.”
Elise laughed. “That’s true, but do you know what I’m saying? Something’s up with Britta, but she still likes you. Get your handsome face over here and fix things, because otherwise you’re fair game and I’m still single.”
Milo chuckled. He knew Elise was joking, mostly. Still, he hoped he’d have a chance to help her find a match one day. “Okay, I’ll try to talk to her, but if she rejects me again I’m giving up. I’ve felt horrible this week.”
“That’s called love. Practice saying it, Milo, and tell Britta next time you see her.”
“Kind of hard to do when she’s running the other direction, but I’ll try.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll succeed, because Britta loves you too,” Elise said. “I can tell.”
Milo hung up the phone and stared out the window for a few minutes. His stomach rumbled and still he stood there, working up the nerve to walk out the door. Finally, his stomach protested loud enough to get him moving. He might not even find Britta with the crush of people in attendance for the cook-offs. Milo told himself that he would eat and then leave if he didn’t find Britta within an hour. He told himself that a librarian was not the right kind of person for a dyslexic piano tuner to date. He told himself all of these things, but his heart didn’t listen.
He parked his car and walked across the field. When he caught sight of the library booth in the center of the celebration, his heart hammered in his chest and all he could think about was kissing Britta again.
Aromas of barbecue grill charcoal and potatoes, chicken, and cobbler hung over the field at the Harvest Hurrah. Britta loved Fridays because of all the cook-offs. The Dutch oven championship was always a big draw, as well as the food-off with local restaurants. Britta noticed Fay carrying in several large containers of ingredients alongside another vendor. Fay had worked tirelessly to coordinate this vital part of the celebration.
“Good luck today,” Britta called.
Fay hefted her tote. “I’m going to need it. Have you tried Martha Jean’s donuts? I hope there will be enough for everyone, but I think it’s going to go fast.”
“I’ll do my best to sample everything early in the day, then.” Britta laughed.
Before starting her shift at the library booth, Britta walked quickly through the barn, searching for Milo. It was hard not to feel disappointed when she didn’t see him, but Britta didn’t have time to indulge in self-pity. The mass of people inside the Big Barn made sure of that.
“Well, hello and howdy, Britta,” Suzy Gibson said as she approached the booth. The well-known grandma of Echo Ridge, bedecked with at least five glass-bead necklaces and ten bangle bracelets, sounded like chimes tinkling wherever she went. “It looks like a larger crowd than last year. It must be pretty exciting to know you’re within reach of your goals.”
Britta smiled at the matronly woman with her bluish-gray hair. “Yes, I’m thrilled about all the possibilities this is opening up for Echo Ridge and our library.”
“And yet, you look disappointed at the same time.” Suzy was surprisingly intuitive, and Britta never got used to how she could pinpoint her feelings in a sentence. It was no use trying to avoid Suzy’s questions.
“I was hoping I’d see Milo today, but there have been so many people, I feel like a book on the wrong shelf. I’ve been all over and still haven’t seen him.”
“Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t give up on him,” Suzy said. “That man has a fine-tuned heart, he does. There’s music in his soul, and you look
like a woman who could use a love song.”
Britta felt her cheeks burning, but her heart was skipping to some kind of weird beat at the same time. Suzy was right: Britta wanted to hear Milo’s song. She just hoped he’d still want to sing it to her.
Even though Britta was completely spent by the day’s end, she took a few minutes to walk around and look for Milo. The food hadn’t tasted the same as in years past. Maybe Milo was avoiding her. Britta held her phone, wondering if she should call him. Her stomach clenched just thinking about what she might say after the way she’d treated him. She slipped her phone back into her purse, where it bumped up against the book Milo needed to turn in to Marian. Maybe she could take it to his house right now. The thought made her heart leap into her throat, and Britta smiled at the matrix of emotions she felt over this man who had quietly insinuated himself into her life.
She glanced at her watch. It was already after nine, and she had to be up early the next morning. Saturday was the last day of the Harvest Hurrah and everything had to be synchronized perfectly. Britta looked up at the twinkling stars peering out from bunches of clouds. She’d get everything set up tomorrow and then give Milo a call.
MILO TUNED THREE PIANOS Saturday morning, and even though the process went smoothly, the chords ringing out true and clear in nearly perfect pitch, he still felt dejected. He probably could’ve tried harder to find Britta yesterday, but when she wasn’t at the library booth or any of the food booths, he’d given up and returned home. It was cowardly, but there were enough doubts swirling through his mind that he didn’t care if Elise thought he was a chicken.
When he returned to Echo Ridge, he stopped by Fay’s Café and grabbed a bite to eat. He swiped cookie crumbs off his shirt and was about to slide into the seat of his car when he noticed his phone on the front seat. It must have slid out of his pocket. He picked it up and swiped his finger across the screen. There was one missed call and two text messages. From Britta. Milo’s heart pounded in his chest as he opened the text messages.
Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2) Page 10